The Taste of Hemlock
by Shantih
Summary: Joey and Malik's first class at college seems to be going pretty well. That is, until the professor shows up - and you'll never guess who it is... Dedicated to Angael! Read and review s'il vous plait!


I was having a conversation with** Angael** in which we were discussing the most ill-conceived pairings in Yu Gi Oh. Wrapshipping came up, and that in turn inspired this (even though I'm not sure about the shippings yet…) I've been wanting to write something from Joey's POV for forever. Also, I think I needed to get some comedy out of my system after the last (decidedly unfunny) chapter of _The Breath of an Outside God_…Let me know how you like it!

This story is dedicated to **Angael**, because she's an awfully sweet person, and a very talented writer! She dedicated a story to me (_The Brat I Babysat_, absolutely hilarious) and you should also go read her story, _Shooting Star_ (it's one of the most adorable things ever).

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the YuGiOh characters. This is non-canon and AU, just so you know, rated T for language. Also, I decided to use Joey's English name and not the Japanese one (partially because I admittedly don't know much about Japanese culture, and partially because I just like it better) but if enough people hate it I'll probably change it. Also, sorry if some people got multiple emails – the formatting got screwed up and I had to change it =(

That said, enjoy your read!

ʘ

I was actually early for my first class at college. I was real proud of myself.

It meant I didn't have time to take a shower or even brush my hair before I left the apartment (and yes, I commute, which mean I have to wake up about half an hour before those rich sons of bitches who can afford dorms on campus). I also didn't have time to grab anything to eat, or even a cup of coffee, so I was additionally starving and half-asleep. Not a good combination, especially if you're supposed to be learning philosophy first thing in the morning. Not that I really know a whole lot about philosophy, other than its one of those classes where you have to read a shit ton of heavy books and think about stuff real hard.

Anyway, I think I'm getting distracted. That tends to happens when I'm hungry. The subway came on time (which was awesome). A stinky homeless guy sat down next to me and started rubbing my leg (which wasn't awesome). I got to class with five minutes to go, though, which never – but_ never_ – happened in high school, so I was happy enough that I forgot about the homeless guy.

When I got to the classroom I did a double take. It was one of those mini-auditoriums with a screen in the front and all the seats arranged like they are in movie theaters. You know, the kinda college classroom you always see in movies. I was kinda expecting it to suck but this brightened up my whole day. You know that movie_ 88 Minutes_, with the lesbian serial killer who's after the college professor? His classroom looked like this. I was so excited I didn't know what to do with myself.

Then I saw a familiar blonde head and purple hoodie way up in front. Figures that son of a bitch would get here before me. He's always been an overachiever.

Malik saw me too and he waved for me to come over. Me and him are going to the same school, although I'm still not quite sure how I got in. Even though he's majoring in African Studies and I haven't decided what I'm doing yet, we decided to enroll in at least one class together every semester for old time's sake. He's always been a little crazy in addition to being an overachiever, but he's good people. I was never as close to him as I was to Tristan or Yugi, but even though we still get on each others nerves, he's a nice guy when all's said and done.

"'Ey Malik," I said as I got closer to him. "How come you're sittin' in da front row?"

"I don't want to miss anything the teacher says," he goes. Figures. Maybe he'll let me copy his homework this semester.

I plopped down next to him, and it was then I remembered that I left my notebook at home.

"You think I could borrow some paper?"

"Sure thing." No wonder he looked so perky, he had coffee. It smelled good.

"Can I have some of your coffee?"

"Go ahead."

There was a little less than half left, so I finished it off. I figured he wouldn't mind.

"Why you look so sad all of a sudden?"

"Oh, nothing."

"You got an extra pencil?"

"Here you go."

I leaned back, feeling more awake already. Bless Malik and his little caffeine-addicted heart. More students were coming in as it got closer to 8:30, glancing at the clock and starting to fill up the back rows. I congratulated myself for being there earlier than those suckers.

It was then that I noticed a stack of books by Malik's feet.

"'Ey, what are those for?"

He gave me a disbelieving stare. "Joey, these are the required texts for the class."

"Wha'? I never heard nothin' 'bout dat."

"Have you even been checking your school email?"

I chose not to answer that. Let Miss Egypt be all high and mighty if she wants to. I ain't apologizin' for nothin'. Although I might need to borrow those books later.

Malik started talking about some work-study job he had an interview for. It sounded pretty boring, so I started trying to flip my pencil. It looks kinda cool if you can do it right, but I ended up breaking off the tip. Just as I was about to ask Malik for another pencil, though, I heard a familiar voice to my left.

"Well, hello there, Joey. Long time no see."

I spun around and directly in my field of vision there was…a pair of giant boobs, clad in white vinyl. I ripped my eyes away (it was tough) and looked up and there was none other than Mai Valentine.

I guess I was gawkin' at her, 'cause she narrowed her eyes at me.

"What? You don't remember me?"

At last I found my voice. "Mai! What da' hell! It's been like, three years or somethin'!"

"And?"

"And you don't look no different!"

"Why, thank you." She giggled and flipped her hair. I caught a powerful whiff of Faberge or somethin' and I had to cover my nose for a minute.

"What are you doin' here anyway?" I asked. "Aren't you too old to be in college by now?"

Her eyes got all mean again and I realized I'd put my foot in it. Ladies don't like it when you put them in the same sentence as the word 'old'.

I mumbled something that might have been an apology. It was tough. You see, when Mai gets mad, she has this look she does that actually make your balls shrivel. Makes it kinda hard to improvise.

"For your information," she said icily, "I'm the TA for this class. I was going to ask if you wanted to get some lunch with me afterwards, but you can forget it."

I cursed myself as she walked away. Some of the other guys were staring at her and I was surprised their eyes didn't fall outta their heads. From what I could tell she was wearin' all vinyl. Her career in higher education sure hadn't made her dress any classier – not that I really minded.

"A beautiful woman offers you food," Malik said next to me, "and you manage to screw it up. Only you, Joey, only you."

"One more comment from da peanut gallery," I muttered half-heartedly, "and I'll kick your sorry Egyptian butt right through the projector screen."

He acted like he hadn't heard me. "With a game plan like that," he went on, "it's a wonder you managed to get laid at all in high school. Oh wait, that's right, you _didn't_."

I thought about it and decided to forgive him. He was probably just pissy that I stole all his coffee.

I looked at the clock and noticed that it was now 8:32.

"Da teacher's late," I pointed out to Malik, who was chewing on his pen.

Now it was 8:33.

"I don't think he should get credit for dis class," I joked. My wit went unappreciated; Malik just rolled his eyes.

"The more important the professor is," he told me, "the less he gives a shit about the class. Apparently that's how it works in college."

"Accordin' to who?"

"Various sources," he said evasively. "…and Ishizu," he finished rather lamely.

Aha. Da truth comes to light.

"So what, this guy's supposed to be some kinda super-professor?" I scoffed. "So far _I'm _better at attendin' class than he is. Dat don't reflect well on him, do it?"

"For your information," Malik said a little snootily, "he's the worldwide expert on Mulla Sadra and Transcendent Theosophy."

I shook my head slowly. "Ya lost me."

"He published_ the_ definitive comparison of Avicenna and Averroes," Malik continued, "and he's not even thirty yet. He's a genius!"

I had no idea what he was goin' on about, but apparently it was important to him. His eyes were wide with reverence. You'd have thought he was talkin' about da Pope, fer chrissake. I yawned.

"Ya got any more coffee?"

Just then the door in the back slammed and brisk footsteps approached the front of the classroom.

"Just don't embarrass me," Malik hissed. I could have sworn he scooted about five inches away from me too.

He didn't have to be such an asshole about it. "You know, you can take your Mulla Sadra and shove it where da sun don't shine," I growled at him under my breath.

Just then I heard a polite cough in front of me. Malik moaned and shrank away even further.

I caught an eyeful of some really nice Italian leather shoes planted firmly in front of me. One was tapping a little impatiently. I looked up slightly. A pair of blue jeans…and then an open white dress shirt that really needed to be ironed, rolled up at the elbows with a wifebeater underneath. I could tell the guy was jacked. I mean, I consider myself to be in pretty good shape, but at the moment I was feelin' a little puny.

Finally I made myself look up at the guy's face. He was glaring down at me, arms crossed in front of his chest, and let me tell you, it was kinda scary. He had dark skin, even compared to Malik's. I figured he came from one of them Middle Eastern countries (not that that was why he was scary, Joey Wheeler ain't no racist). His hair was white, which was kinda weird 'cause he wasn't even old, and it was stickin' up everywhere like he hadn't bothered to brush it for about a week. But the scariest thing of all was his eyes. They were sharp and grey, like the color of steel, and they kinda made me nervous. At first I would have been delighted there was somebody else here who looked even more disheveled than I did, but for the moment I was a little disconcerted. He looked pretty pissed off and I coulda sworn he could read my thoughts or somethin' trippy like that.

"What's your name?" he asked. His voice was really deep and manly, and I could tell he had some kinda accent.

"Joey Wheeler," I told him in my own deepest, manliest voice. It didn't sound as testosterone-y as I wanted it to though, and I noticed a definite sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. He honestly looked like he was fixin' to beat me up or something. First day of college. Figures, with my luck.

"Joey Wheeler," he repeated, still staring me down. The way he said it made it sound kinda funky and exotic, especially the way he rolled the 'r' at the end. "Good to know you hold such a high opinion of the subject."

With that he turned around and stalked toward the front of the classroom.

"I knew they tightened security," I whispered to Malik, "but you didn't tell me they had _bouncers_ for university classes." I tried to make it sound casual, even though I was still a little bit petrified.

Malik was pale with embarrassment. "That's not a bouncer," he whispered back, "that's the _professor_."

Holy guacamole. They don't call me Joe the Slow for nothin'.

Meanwhile, the guy had seated himself behind the desk and was taking some papers out his briefcase. The room had gone silent. I could tell a couple of guys in the row behind me were staring at me (don't ask how, I can just tell). Not like I gave half a crap anyway. I flipped them off without looking behind me.

"Welcome," said the professor, sounding (at least to me) anything but welcoming. "For those of you who don't know, I'm Akefia Bayoumi, and this is Introduction to Philosophy."

Boy oh boy. This was my first time sittin' in the actual front of a class, and as such, Professor Akefia Whatever-His-Wonky-Last-Name-Is was about five feet away from me. I was screwed. This was even less awesome than the stinky homeless guy.

"If there is anybody in the class who is _not_ supposed to be here," he continued, sounding rather threatening, "they are cordially invited to leave now."

He was glaring right at me, the son of a bitch. Great. The class hadn't even started yet and I'd already made a mortal enemy. I guess whatever I said about Mulla Whatsis cut him deep.

He tossed a sheaf of papers to Malik, who caught it and began to pass the papers around.

I took a look down at mine.. It was the class syllabus. I looked a little closer. There were a lot of numbers on it, which I realized with a jolt were the pages of assigned reading.

To my dismay, the syllabus continued on the back too. I let out an inner groan. There was no way I was gonna be able to do this much reading in four months. No way.

"In addition to the reading," the professor went on, in what could only be described as sepulchral tones, "there will also be in-class discussions, research papers, and a midterm and final, all of which count towards your grade. After two absences, your grade will drop one full letter. Every absence after that drops it another letter, so that means even if you do a perfect job on everything else, if you miss five classes you have effectively failed the course."

He talked pretty fast and I was having trouble keeping up with what he was saying. That accent didn't help, either.

I poked Malik with my broken-off pencil. He gave me a dirty look out of the corner of his eye.

"'Ey Malik," I whispered. "Ya wanna translate for me?"

"Joey," he whispered back, sounding exasperated, "his English is better than yours. I can't help you."

So much for that.

"Additionally," Akefia was sayin', "and unlike some other professors at this institution, I grade based on intelligence as well as hard work. Unfortunately for some of you, this means that even if you work your ass off, if you're mentally deficient by my standards, I _will_ fail you. I know it's not fair, but neither is life."

He leaned back and put his feet up on the table, starting to look like he was enjoying himself. "I see some of you are looking alarmed. You have exactly one week to transfer out of this class. After that, you're stuck with me for the entire semester."

He actually chuckled to himself after that. In all my years of public school, I never once came face to face with a teacher this supremely evil.

I sighed and leaned my chin on my hand. I wanted to take a nap so bad, but I had a feeling the consequences of falling asleep in this class would not be good. I surreptitiously glanced at the clock. Still an hour and fifteen minutes to go until freedom. This sure wasn't what I bargained for when I signed up for this class. I was hoping to get one of them nice old batty professors with senile dementia who dressed in tweed and had a British accent. Not some brainy Middle Eastern guy with a death wish against me (and who could probably take me in a fight). _And_ who needed to buy himself a comb. Plus he wasn't even thirty, apparently. So much for the senile dementia. Just my luck. I sighed to myself. It was Joey Wheeler versus the universe, and the universe would always win.

There I went, gettin' distracted again. Akefia was talkin' about somethin' or other but I'd lost track of it. I thought again about how much I wanted food and glanced around the room sneakily to see if anyone else was paying attention. To my dismay, almost everyone else was taking notes.

_Almost_ everyone else. In the back, I could see Mai. She was busy puttin' on some lip gloss.

Akefia cleared his throat.

"_Miss_ Valentine…"

She eep'ed and I saw her drop the lip gloss.

"Whenever you're ready."

She jumped up and scurried to the back of the room. A minute later a slide came up on the projection screen.

There was a little click against my shoe. I looked down and what do you know, Mai's lip gloss had rolled all the way to the front. I pocketed it. It would give me an excuse to apologize to her later, I figured.

The slide looked like a whole bunch of different timelines all jammed together. Malik took one glance at it and started scribbling frantically in his notebook.

"The first part of this class will be a discussion on Classical philosophy," Akefia was saying. "After that, we'll be studying Islamic and Jewish philosophy, and finally in the second half, we'll attempt to cover the last thousand years or so of Western thought. I think we'll end with Nietzsche."

I bugged Malik until he gave me another pencil and started copying down what was on the slide. Meanwhile, Akefia started talking about somethin' else. Ancient Greeks, I think. I was about halfway through writin' everything down when Akefia snapped his fingers and Mai changed the slide to somethin' else with a lot of numbers. I refrained from bangin' my head against the desk.

"So," the professor said, folding his hands. "Can anyone tell me what work Socrates is most famous for?"

I froze. His eyes traveled around the room. A couple of people put their hands up, but he ignored them. Finally, his eyes settled on me, and I could have sworn I saw him smirk.

"Mr. Wheeler," he drawled. "If you'd be so kind."

I could feel my palms going sweaty. What da hell's wrong wit me? I mentally kicked myself. Back in high school, I never got this nervous in class, even if I had no idea what was goin' on. But now I could feel myself beginning to turn pink. I knew next to nothin' about all that Ancient Roman stuff. Ancient Greek, rather. Whateva.

"Uh," I said, to bargain for time. I vaguely remembered hearin' somethin' about Socrates on Jeopardy. I decided to make a wild guess. "Da Odyssey?"

The smirk gave way to a grin, and then, whaddaya know, the guy started flat-out laughin'. A couple people in the class started gigglin' too. I slumped back in my chair and silently vowed that I would one day make him sorry.

Malik's hand shot up next to me and Akefia nodded at him.

"It's a trick question," Malik said. He was talking a little fast and I could tell he was nervous too. "Socrates never wrote anything down. Some of his contemporaries like Plato and Xenophon referred to him to legitimize their own ideologies, but we don't actually have any original sources from him."

"Very good," Akefia replied. "What's your name?"

"Malik Ishtar," said Malik Ishtar.

"It turns out we have a sentient being in this class," Akefia said. "Who knew?"

Malik was positively beaming with pride.

"I smell a bromance," I teased him under my breath.

"Oh, shut up, Homer," he bit back.

"Oh yeah?" I retorted. "Sticks an' stones may break my bones, but Simpsons references will never hurt me." I scoffed mightily. "Put _dat_ in ya pipe and smoke it."

Malik made a funny little choking noise. I interpreted this as a victory on my part.

After that, the professor started talking about the influence of somethin' called Neoplatonism and Hellenic dualism and all sorts of fancy-soundin' things. I had the feeling that if he'd been talking a little slower, and if I could just decipher that damn accent a little better, I'd get what he was saying. But no such luck.

Finally after what seemed like forever, it got to be ten-o-clock. Akefia wrapped up his lecture and told the class blithely that there was two hundred pages of reading due for Wednesday, and we'd better get cracking.

I stood up and stretched out. Malik was busy throwing all his books back into his bag. He looked a little stressed out. My stomach was rumbling, and all I wanted to do was go eat something and forget about this horrible class…at least until Wednesday.

"Mr. Wheeler, may I have a word?"

Slowly I turned around. The prof was standing right behind me. I must have looked a little beat down by then, 'cause he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, what is it?" I asked.

He smiled at me and I noticed for the first time he was actually pretty handsome. Not that I could imagine anyone wantin' any part of that malicious bastard.

"No need to sound so dismal," he replied, and then lowered his voice so only I could hear.

"To be completely honest," he told me, "I've taken somewhat of an instant dislike to you, as I'm sure you have to me."

I was about to protest this accusation, but then thought – what da hell. It's the truth.

"Yeah, pretty much," I agreed.

"We're in accord then." He crossed his arms. "In that case, I strongly suggest you transfer out of this class into something a little more suited to your level of intellectual…curiosity. You'll be better able to handle something easier, and it's probably a good idea for you to take a course you can actually hope to pass."

I stared at him and I could actually feel myself getting mad. Was there no limit to his assbaggery? The condescending douchetard! I forced myself to stay quiet in case I said something outta line. I still wasn't completely sure he wasn't planning on beating me up.

I knew he knew I was pissed off, but he just smirked at me. "As long as we're on the same page then. I sincerely hope not to see you on Wednesday," he told me, "and I wish you the best of luck with your studies."

With that, he shouldered his briefcase and turned to leave.

"Hang on," I said.

He looked back and frowned at me.

I opened my mouth, and what came out next, believe me, I didn't plan.

"Sorry to hafta crush ya dreams," I told him with a cheeky grin, "but I'll be around to piss ya off for da rest of da semester."

I felt immensely gratified by the way his eyes widened in shock, and I worked up the nerve to walk right up to him.

"By da way, teach," I said, sounding as friendly as I could, "ya got lipstick on ya collar. Might wanna wash dat shirt."

With that I turned and swaggered out of the classroom, feeling cheery for the first time that day. I suspected Akefia was probably fuming, but I didn't turn around to look.

I had reached a conclusion. It was pretty obvious Mister Big Bad Professor was sure I was gonna fail the class. But, I decided, it didn't matter how much work it took me or how often I was gonna hafta bug him during office hours or how many all-nighters I was gonna hafta pull. People had been assuming I was a hair away from retarded all throughout high school. Back in my gang days, I didn't give a crap, but that was only 'cause I was tryin' to self-destruct. After that I had Yugi with me and that kept my morale up, 'cause he never treated me like I was an idiot, even when everybody else did. But without Yugi there, it started to hit me pretty hard, and it didn't feel good.

So I decided. I'd prove that bastard wrong. I'd make him eat his hat, and oh boy was he gonna feel like an asshole at the end of the semester. I was gonna do such a good job, he'd have to give me an A no matter what.

Then I remembered I still had Mai's lip gloss in my pocket, so I went to go find her and give it back and see if she maybe wanted to go get some pizza.

ʘ

To all my readers who are still in high school…YES THIS IS WHAT COLLEGE IS REALLY LIKE. FEAR IT.

Don't forget to review! (And also let me know if you think I should continue this or if it's better as a one-shot)…


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